Flowers of loveliness Twelve groups of female figures, emblematic of flowers: Designed by various artists; With poetical illustrations, by L. E. L. [i.e. Landon] |
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THE HEATH. |
 | Flowers of loveliness |  |
THE HEATH.
Ah, gentle flower! on which the wind
Delays, as if it loved delay;
I ask of thee no wreath to bind,
I take no blossom from thy spray:
I only breathe upon thy bloom,
And ask it, for my sake, to bear
A message on its faint perfume,
Afar amid its native air.
Delays, as if it loved delay;
I ask of thee no wreath to bind,
I take no blossom from thy spray:
I only breathe upon thy bloom,
And ask it, for my sake, to bear
A message on its faint perfume,
Afar amid its native air.
Slight are the links that waken thought,
And slight are those I trust to now;
Yet by that soft flower may be brought
The memory of a broken vow!
E'en as thy soft hues fade away,
So fadeth love! so doth the heart
See, in a single hour, decay
All that was once its loveliest part.
And slight are those I trust to now;
Yet by that soft flower may be brought
The memory of a broken vow!
E'en as thy soft hues fade away,
So fadeth love! so doth the heart
See, in a single hour, decay
All that was once its loveliest part.
Ah! fairy blossoms! tell my love,—
Or he who once was love of mine,—
How can the conscious heaven above
Upon such utter falsehood shine.
Tell him, that since he left my fears,
To bear with all that absence bears,
I have but thought of him with tears;
I have but breathed of him in prayers.
Or he who once was love of mine,—
How can the conscious heaven above
Upon such utter falsehood shine.
Tell him, that since he left my fears,
To bear with all that absence bears,
I have but thought of him with tears;
I have but breathed of him in prayers.
I loved him, like an eager child,
That knows not how it loves, or why!
My spirits brightened when he smiled;
I never gave him cause to sigh,—
Yet loved with woman's fondness too,
That knows it is her life she gives;
Deep, earnest, passionate, and true,
The love that in the spirit lives.
That knows not how it loves, or why!
My spirits brightened when he smiled;
I never gave him cause to sigh,—
Yet loved with woman's fondness too,
That knows it is her life she gives;
Deep, earnest, passionate, and true,
The love that in the spirit lives.
Thou fragile flower! if thou hast brought
His image, too beloved! to me;
It is because I link his thought
With every object that I see!
I watch the morning's rosy light
Redden amid the dewy air;
I watch the silent stars at night;
But only meet his image there.
His image, too beloved! to me;
It is because I link his thought
With every object that I see!
I watch the morning's rosy light
Redden amid the dewy air;
I watch the silent stars at night;
But only meet his image there.
Yet he is false! he loves me not!
He leaves me lone and wretched here;
Ye Heavens! how can they be forgot,—
Vows that he called on ye to hear?
And yet, I never asked a vow;
Doubts, fears, were utterly unknown;
The faith that is so worthless now,
I then believed in by my own.
He leaves me lone and wretched here;
Ye Heavens! how can they be forgot,—
Vows that he called on ye to hear?
And yet, I never asked a vow;
Doubts, fears, were utterly unknown;
The faith that is so worthless now,
I then believed in by my own.
I read his heart by mine! and deemed
Its truth was clear, its choice was made;
The happiness I only dreamed,
How bitterly has it been paid!
Breathe, ye soft flowers, my long despair!
But tell him, now, return is vain;
My heart has had too much to bear,
Ever to be his own again.
Its truth was clear, its choice was made;
The happiness I only dreamed,
How bitterly has it been paid!
Breathe, ye soft flowers, my long despair!
But tell him, now, return is vain;
My heart has had too much to bear,
Ever to be his own again.
| Flowers of loveliness | |